


one for each night

by rosytonics



Series: the defenders' messy holiday extravaganza [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hanukkah festivities, Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 03:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosytonics/pseuds/rosytonics
Summary: Pete Castiglione is normal, and people like him. No one wants to shoot him in the head, or stab his wife, or kidnap his daughter. He’s just an everyday guy who keeps to himself and buys light up menorahs at Target.or, the kastle hanukkah + baby spectacular that you've all been waiting for!





	one for each night

**Author's Note:**

> happy hanukkah, everyone!!! i hope everyone who celebrates had a wonderful and reflective week! i was scrambling to get this done on time, and i managed to get it done on the VERY LAST DAY!! 
> 
> this is a gift for my wonderful friend maddy @jewishkarenpage on tumblr! i'm so glad that we're friends, and i hope you had a good hanukkah!! i love you!! ♡♡♡ 
> 
> i AM planning a little defenders ficlet series for the holidays, so there's definitely more to come! this was my first time writing frank, so i was a little hesitant! please let me know if i did okay, and if you have any suggestions for writing him in the future!

“Don’t you think you’re cutting it a little close, sir?” asks the cashier, as he scans the light up menorah and sets it carefully in the bag, “Hanukkah starts tonight, doesn’t it?” 

 

Frank shuffles through his wallet for some cash and keeps his head low. “Uh, yeah.” It’s been eight years since his trial, and six years since he’s gone _out to work_ , but being recognized as the _P-U-N-I-S-H-E-R_ at 5 PM in a Target isn’t exactly ideal. He’s good at fading into the background and hiding in the shadows, but the whole _point_ of doing this whole “normal life” thing is that he doesn’t _have_ to lurk anymore. “My wife and I were on the fence about using a real one because of the baby.” 

 

It’s not that he doesn’t _trust_ Penny around the menorah, it’s just that he…well, okay, he _doesn’t_ trust her around the menorah, because she’s a year old and likes to grab at pretty, shiny things. He pays for the menorah and takes the train home, hood up and earbuds in, sitting next to an old lady holding her dog in a shopping bag. 

 

It’s still weird to have a wife and daughter again, but he’s getting better at not thinking about it. He’s getting better at being _Pete Castiglione_ , because that’s who he is in front of open doors. Pete Castiglione is a stay at home dad who runs a food blog where he writes about garlic bread, and maybe a hundred people care. Pete Castiglione is normal, and people like him. No one wants to shoot him in the head, or stab his wife, or kidnap his daughter. He’s just an everyday guy who keeps to himself and buys light up menorahs at Target. 

 

He slips out of his shoes at the door and hangs his jacket up in the hallway. The house smells like the brisket that he put in the crock pot this morning and Karen’s favorite scented candles that she has to put away whenever Matt comes over (because otherwise he’ll sneeze, and hold his head, and pretend he’s not gagging because he’s too much of a pussy to complain); it smells like _home_ , and it’s been a long time since Frank had anything like that. 

 

“Da!” 

 

Or anything like _this_. 

 

He kneels down and catches Penny in his arms as she stumbles across the kitchen floor at top baby speed. Her little arms flail excitedly as he scoops her up and lifts her into his lap. He gives her a kiss on the cheek, which makes her squeal. In the short time he’s been out, Karen has managed to wrangle her into a pair of silver tights, a blue tutu that would put any other blue tutu to shame, and a onesie that says in glittery letters _This is How We Jew It_. And of course, the look isn’t complete without a little bow in her dark hair. 

 

“How long do you think it’ll take for her to rip all this off and start running around naked?” he asks as he stands up, holding her to his hip and heading into the living room. He sets the shopping bag on the couch next to Karen and leans down to kiss her cheek. 

 

“Hopefully she gives us enough time to take pictures and light the menorah.” She leans into the kiss and then turns and gives him one on the lips. “Hi.” Her eyes are as bright as the Hanukkah candles that they’re not allowed to light because of Penny, and her lips taste like peppermint chapstick. She peeks into the bag and smiled. “Oh, it’s so cute! Does it come with batteries?” She pulls out the menorah and holds it in front of Frank and Penelope. “Look, Penny! Daddy got you your own menorah!” 

 

Penny reaches out with a fat little hand and grasps the base, giving another squeal of approval. 

“I’ll take care of the batteries now,” Frank offers, lifting Penny out of his lap and handing her off to Karen. Penny immediately busies herself with playing with Karen’s long hair, grasping it and giving it experimental little tugs. He takes the menorah to the kitchen and hunts around for some batteries. 

 

From the kitchen, he can hear Karen talking to Penny softly, probably brushing her fingers through the mop of dark hair on her head. Even being in a different room from them makes him feel on edge sometimes; he needs to have them in his line of sight _always_ , so he can guard them and keep them safe. Frank takes a deep breath and reminds himself that it’s okay. 

 

Everything is okay. 

 

He can protect them. 

 

He can _protect_ them. 

 

His hands keep shaking around the screwdriver, but he finally manages to get the batteries into the menorah and closes the whole thing up. When he comes back to the living room, he finds Penny standing on the couch, supported by Karen’s hands around her waist. Smiling to himself, he sets the menorah on the windowsill. 

 

“It looks perfect,” Karen promises as he steps closer and bends down to kiss her. She sets her hand on the back of his neck and drifts her fingers through his hair. 

 

“Wanna light it up?” he asks, scooping Penny up and supporting her against his shoulder. The world sucks just a little bit less when he holds her. He offers Karen his free hand and she accepts it as she rises from the couch. 

 

They gather around the windowsill, and although there isn’t a _shamash_ to light it with, Karen turns over the menorah and flips on the first of eight switches. The first plastic candle lights up, and Penny immediately makes an attempt to reach for it. At least it’s not an open flame, but Frank still takes her little hand anyway. Bouncing her gently, he kisses it. 

 

He doesn’t know the words. He didn’t grow up with them, and they’re in a language he barely knows. He’s still pretty shaky on what they mean, but he knows that he loves the way Karen says them. 

 

“ _Baruch atah Adonai_ ,” she sings softly, her eyes glowing by the light of the flickering lightbulb, “ _Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah._ ” Her voice soothes Penny’s fussing and attempts to grab the candle, and she and Frank find themselves completely captivated by her. Karen glances at the two of them with a small smile before singing again. “ _Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, she-asah nisim la’avoteinu bayamim hahem bazman hazeh_.” She steps a little closer to Frank and leans her head against his shoulder. He adjusts Penny so she sits between them, and wraps his free arm around his wife. “ _Baruch atah Adonai, Elohenu Melech ha’olam, shehecheyanu, v’kiyimanu, v’higiyanu la’zman hazeh_ …Why are you looking at me like that?” 

 

Frank grins at her, and he probably looks like a total lovestruck idiot. “Like what?” he asks innocently, and Karen gives his shoulder an affectionate shove. 

 

“Like _that_.” She reaches up and gives his cheek a squeeze. 

 

“I have no idea what you mean, Ms. Page.” That has her rolling her eyes and laughing, and it lights Frank’s heart up like a million menorahs. “Come on. Let’s eat. I’ve been thinking about that brisket all day.” 


End file.
